The Most Underrated Pizza in NYC

From greasy slice joints in Queens to iconic red-sauce restaurants in the Bronx, it's time to shed light on the city's unsung pizza heroes.

Written by:Arthur Bovino

Image via Arthur Bovino

New York's reputation for great pizza—and the cheap price of a slice—inevitably breeds a city full of "experts" who wouldn't think twice about declaring which joint makes the best version. It can be even maddening to listen to friends and colleagues weigh in with de facto credibility just for having a New York zip code. And the rankings! They can make you even crazier. So let's forget about ranking Platonic pies. The lists most useful to pizza passionistas can sometimes be the ones that highlight places that aren't world-famous. Allow your blood pressure to fall as we talk about most underrated pizza instead.

All over the boroughs there are great mom-and-pops carrying on decades of tradition, pizzerias whose time in the limelight isn't in print, online, on TV, or in the movies. But in the eyes of devoted New Yorkers who've been supporting them for years, they're stars nonetheless. Sure, a few are in Manhattan, but we're more often talking about gems in Queens and the Bronx, Brooklyn and Staten Island, some that are off highways, aren't near subways, or that require a fair amount of dedication to visit. The common thread? They're all worth it.

Some of the following joints may be pizza famous (known to pizza nerds). Some are not without acclaim or notoriety. You may have even been to a few. For our purposes, we’re calling pizzerias "underrated" that consistently do fantastic pizza but whose names don’t roll off the tongue of the average New Yorker as fast as they’d retreat from a scalding slice. New Park, Brothers, Rose & Joe's, Arturo's—there are plenty of spots that are criminally underrated, but for now, consider these 10 places deserving of immediate-recall status.

Here is New York's most underrated pizza.

Louie & Ernie's

Hands-down, Ernie & Louie's serves New York City’s best sausage pizza. And while it does occasionally make lists, you’d expect this sliver of a slice joint to garner more fervent fanfare. Located in deep east Bronx, Louie & Ernie’s started in East Harlem in 1947 before moving to its current location in 1959. Cosimo and Johnny Tiso bought it from Ernie Ottuso in 1987, and they’ve been slinging superior thin-crust pies ever since. Where most sausage pies feature medallions, Louie & Ernie’s is topped with crumbled, fennel-laden sausage made four blocks away with an 80-year-old recipe at the S&D Pork Store. The result is a copiously-covered, juicy slice as balanced as it is addictive.

Fascati Pizza

Fascati's would appear to be central casting for a late-60s Brooklyn pizzeria—the block letter sign and billowed, no-frills metal siding give the impression nothing’s changed at this storefront opened by Neapolitan brothers Orlando and Sal Fascati in 1971. Fascati's offers super flat slices with a slight crumb rise and virtually no lift to the crispy cornicione. Like Joe's in the West Village, you’re almost always guaranteed something straight from the oven. By all means, make a Brooklyn pizza pilgrimage to Grimaldi’s or Juliana’s, but it’s worth saving room and making the seven-minute walk up the hill to Brooklyn Heights for one of the city’s most mind-bogglingly unappreciated slices. Or take it from former New York Times restaurant critic Sam Sifton, who originated the Pizza Cognition Theory, the idea that the first slice a child tastes, becomes, for him or her, The Pizza. Crust, sauce, and cheese “should balance, a perfect triangle of salt, acidity, sweet,” Sifton explains. “That is pizza in New York City.” Who’d he say measures up? Fascati. *Slice drop*

Margherita Pizza

This narrow, brightly lit slice spot in Jamaica, Queens is a silent killer—a pizza ninja among under-appreciated pizzerias. Sicilian-born Stefano DiBenedetto and childhood friend Frank Gioeliand opened this neighborhood icon in 1966. It’s not much to look at—there’s a nondescript green awning you’d miss if not for the blinking globes in the window— but once you walk up to the long counter bereft of stools and ask for a slice, you’re immediately in pizza heaven. They come hot, they come quick, and you’re guaranteed a cheese pull for $2.75 every time. This isn’t about balance, it’s about indulgence. Margherita is a napkin-blotter’s pizza grease nightmare: we’re talking oil-dripping-down-your-wrist good. There’s twice as much cheese as crust. Just a 10-block, 15-minute walk from the Jamaica Long Island Railroad Station, this slice is worth hopping on or off the train for.

Lee's Tavern

Joe & Pat’s may be coming to Manhattan’s East Village, and Denino’s is already in the West Village. But the Staten Island pizzeria Manhattan would truly be lucky to get is Lee’s, a Dongan Hills neighborhood bar that in your heart you hope never actually crosses the ferry. There’s just so much of its soul there. This is a bar without a sign on a street named for founder Diego "Dickie" Palemine, who opened it in 1960. Lee's serves bar pies, and unequivocally New York’s best non-popup rendition. Crispy but not crackery, they're super thin, which means you can easily swing more than one. Obviously try the clam pie, but the pepperoni offers its own rewards: You get those crisp, pepperoni craters cradling delicious pools of salty oil.

Amore Pizza

Blink and you'll miss the faded sign for Amore in a Flushing strip-mall parking lot off the Whitestone Expressway, a 10-minute drive from the East River. This is a working man’s pizzeria—home to cops and truck drivers—where they're not shy about slinging a wet pie. The crust barely holds up to the sauce and cheese coastline that extends nearly to the edge of the slice. The owners haven’t bothered to replace the missing “R” on the sign out front in who knows how long. There’s no “R” in "best" either, but there are two in "underrated," and this thin-crust slice is definitely that.

J & V Pizzeria

Beyond the chess tables lining Ocean Parkway, past the rabbinically-overseen pizzerias in nearby Borough Park, there’s J & V Pizzeria in Bensonhurst. J & V stands for John and Vinny—John Mortillaro and Vincent DeGrezia to be exact—two friends who opened the shop in 1950. Its founders were from Sicily (John) and Naples (Vincent), parts of Italy responsible for J & V’s signature square grandma pizza and round pies. J & V claims to be among the first pizzerias to sell by the slice. That’s a tough claim to verify, but take one bite of a narrow isosceles from this Brooklyn stalwart and footnotes fade away. The plain cheese pizza has a consistently browned, but bendable bottom and comes with an acidic gravy that satisfies the back sides of the tongue. The grandma? Crispy and garlicky, and thin enough to have two.

Luigi's Pizza

Luigi’s has been featured by neighborhood pizza documentarians The New York Pizza Project, named the best slice in New York City by the Village Voice, and had its TV and big screen moments over the years. Still, ask most New Yorkers, and even many pizza-philes, about this Sunset Park’s signature squares, fresh mozzarella slices, and supreme pies, and you almost always get a blank stare. Hard to believe since they’ve been making high-quality pies since Italian-born founder Luigi Lonzo opened it in 1973. These days, his son Gio oversees the pies. “She makes the sauce,” he said, crediting his sister Marissa for the reason why people return. The pizza has a gold-spotted cornicione and a crust about as thick as 10 worn singles. It's covered with a shallow sea of tangy sauce, three thin slices of fresh mozzarella squares, and a drizzle of olive oil. Folks drive from Jersey for it (they were there when we took photos), so put your egos in check, New York, because Jersey doesn’t suffer for good pizza.

Brunetti Pizza

Motorino, Keste, Roberta’s—these are all terrific Neapolitan pizzerias. But one West Village spot has the same chops, if not the hype, as the rest: Brunetti Pizza. While pizza savant Scott Wiener of Scott’s Pizza Tours features Brunetti on tours, much of the mainstream food media routinely misses this offshoot of the Westhampton original operated by Jason “Sonny” Brunetti. This pizzeria turns out leopard-spotted beauties whose application of sauce and toppings ensures you’re never left with a dry bite. The signature pie topped with garlic, butter, parsley, and fresh-shucked, chopped Long Island clams is one of the city’s best riffs on the style, and there’s a killer spicy soppressata. But the move is to sit at the bar and take a flyer on one of the playfully named special pies Jason is playing with.

Mario's

Worn carpets, faded photos, garish decor, Muzak—there’s little to reassure the faith that drew you up to Mario's restaurant on 183rd Street in Belmont. But the skepticism quickly fades when the brick-oven fired pie is set down on the table with red pepper flakes and grated Parmesan. The crunch is prominent, the bright tang of San Marzano tomatoes shines through, and you hear yourself think, “I’ll be damned, that’s good.” And it should be: Mario’s is one of the city’s oldest Italian restaurants, opened in 1919 by Scalostica Migliucci as a pizzeria. You can find individual pies listed under the appetizers menu for $7.50, or you can request the off-the-menu large for $19. The light sauce and cheese, the slightly puffy cornicione—each bite makes you feel like a pizza archaeologist close to discovering the missing link between Neapolitan and New York City pizzas.

Luzzo's

Part of why John’s of Bleecker, Juliana's, Patsy’s, and Totonno’s have the followings they do are the coal ovens that turn out charred pies, harkening back to New York’s pizza origins. And while today’s cleaner coal technology means the style isn’t as limited to grandfathered ovens allowed by the DEP, a pizzeria with a 100-year old oven does have something going for it. That’s what Charles LoPresto and pizzaiolo Michele Iuliano have at the East Village spot they opened in 2005 in what was once a beloved old-school bakery. Luzzo’s signature is La Quadrata, an old-fashioned square pie with tomato sauce, garlic, oregano and basil, or also topped with buffalo mozzarella. This light pizza has a narrow crust and a deliciously tart sauce. No wonder that it and the less traditionally topped pies (that Piccante with ham and hot cherry peppers) draw crowds. So where’s the love as a destination?

Latest News

FIRST WE FEAST participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means FIRST WE FEAST gets paid commissions on purchases made through our links to retailer sites. Our editorial content is not influenced by any commissions we receive.